


kon-cede

by thunderylee



Category: Nobuta wo Produce
Genre: Canon Universe, Dubious Consent, M/M, Obsession, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 11:24:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12480448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Thinking back on it now, Shuuji wonders how he missed the signs. This kind of love isn’t normal.





	kon-cede

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

After the fourth time Akira follows him to a new city, Shuuji starts to get a little frustrated.

“Don’t you want to live your own life?” Shuuji asks, on the top of the roof, and Akira just blinks at him.

“Shuuji-kun doesn’t want me around anymore?” and it’s so sad that Shuuji runs towards him, grabs him by the arms, and stares hard into his eyes.

“Of course I want you around,” Shuuji assures him. “But we’re twenty-four now. Don’t you want to get married and have a family?”

Akira stares at him like the possibility has never crossed his mind and shakes his head so hard that his hair flies into his face on every swivel. “I want to live with Shuuji forever.”

Stubborn isn’t a strong enough word to describe Akira sometimes, but his eyes are so sad that all Shuuji can do is swallow back his retort. “Forever?”

“Forever,” Akira says firmly, then grins. “Shuuji-kun is my most important person in the world.”

Shuuji smiles weakly. “I’d like to get married and have kids someday, Akira.”

“There are ways we can do that, too,” Akira says, and Shuuji almost laughs until he realizes that Akira is serious.

“Um,” Shuuji says carefully. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

Those eyes don’t leave him as Akira approaches him, and it takes all of Shuuji’s strength not to take one step back for each one Akira takes forward. “I want to live with Shuuji-kun forever,” he repeats.

Shuuji has always thought that Akira was a bit slow, but not to the extent of mental incompatibility. He just sees things differently than most people, and usually Shuuji can figure him out. But right now, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t find a logical reason for Akira to be so possessive over him.

“I don’t think you understand –” he starts, but Akira cuts him off with his mouth.

_Oh_. Shuuji remains stationary as Akira kisses him, over and over like he has no idea that Shuuji is unresponsive. Meanwhile, Shuuji’s mind is brimming with cluttered thoughts, understanding and confusion and somehow in the middle of all of this _thinking_ he starts kissing Akira back.

It’s not bad. Not bad at all. Particularly when Akira takes him in his arms and pulls them close together, kissing him deeply like he’s dying of thirst and Shuuji is the shining oasis in the middle of the desert. Like he couldn’t breathe otherwise, like the world would end if he didn’t put his all into this.

Akira has always been attached to Shuuji, but despite the kissy faces and extraordinary closeness, Shuuji thought that they were just friends. That Akira liked girls – hadn’t he been in love with Nobuta in high school? He’d been possessive back then, too, come to think of it, not wanting to share Nobuta with other people. Thinking back on it now, Shuuji wonders how he missed the signs. This kind of love isn’t normal.

It’s obsession.

“Akira,” Shuuji says gently, inwardly wincing at Akira’s wounded face like he’s a puppy that Shuuji had just kicked by breaking their kiss. “We can’t do this.”

“Sure we can,” Akira replies, wrapping his arms around Shuuji’s neck and grinning at him. “I love you.”

Shuuji blinks. “Akira.”

“It’s okay if you don’t love me now,” Akira says. “We have all the time in the world.”

“That’s not –” Shuuji starts, but he’s interrupted again by a kiss. This one is much more dominating, like Akira’s tongue is indirectly sending signals to Shuuji’s brain to control his movements, and Shuuji finds himself clutching onto Akira’s shirt as he loses his balance. Akira grabs him by the waist and pulls, and Shuuji follows him blindly, trusting that Akira isn’t going to do something insane like throw him over the edge of the roof.

He ends up on a bench with Akira in his lap, straddling his thighs, and it’s much more comfortable now that Shuuji doesn’t have to try and stand up. His mind isn’t racing anymore – pleasantly numb – and all he knows is Akira, his sweet taste and spicy cologne and strong touch. Akira has totally taken him over, burying the rational part of him that is screaming how bad of an idea this is, and all that’s left is how it feels.

Akira’s hand drifts down Shuuji’s stomach, which flutters even under his shirt as Shuuji sucks in his air at the intimacy. Fingers bump the tip of his erection in his pants and he hadn’t even known he was aroused until right now, casting aside all other feelings to rock desperately against the promising friction.

“Shuuji,” Akira whispers into their kiss, which grows even more heated as Akira gets more worked up. “Shuuji.”

It’s probably the first time he’s dropped the –kun, which ultimately casts them into a new level of friendship – or something more, judging by Akira’s hands rushing to unfasten Shuuji’s belt. Shuuji feels the rush of air on his cock and its exposed and it’s exhilarating, reminding him that they’re _outside_ on the _roof_ and that realization just makes him thrust harder into Akira’s hand.

Then Akira tugs on his own pants, urging them down one leg to expose his lower half to Shuuji, and Shuuji’s right mind returns full force. “Akira, no, we can’t do this here. Or anywhere.”

“It’s okay,” Akira says soothingly as he reaches into his pocket for something. “I’ll do all the work. You just sit there and enjoy it.”

“It’s not that,” Shuuji gets out, sputtering at this indecency which is taken to a completely different level as Akira pokes a slick finger between his own legs. “ _Akira_ , please stop.”

“Your words are disagreeing with your body,” Akira points out, and he’s not wrong at all, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face as Shuuji’s basically fucking Akira’s hand at the sight before his eyes. “Don’t you want to do that inside me?”

“Fuck,” Shuuji gets out, leaning his head against Akira’s shoulder, his lips grazing Akira’s collarbone and Shuuji is filled with primal desires and urges as Akira moans and fingers himself harder. “Okay, fine, let’s do this.”

“Yay~” Akira sings, his voice fading into a filthy noise as Shuuji actively kisses his skin. He really likes that, it seems. Shuuji does it harder when Akira pushes his pants down, enough for his cock to spring free and both of Akira’s hands rush to coat it with the lubrication. That’s the last of Shuuji’s sanity, his own hands dropping to Akira’s ass to lift him up, gently easing him down on Shuuji’s cock that Akira guides inside him.

“Fuck,” Shuuji says again, burying his face into Akira’s throat as Akira sinks all the way down onto him. “Oh my god.”

He expects Akira to say something lame, like “enjoy the ride,” but he just moves and Shuuji finds it ironic that Akira only shuts up during sex. To be fair, he can’t really talk either, his entire being overcome by the stimulation of Akira’s tight body and the complete lack of rhythm that Akira executes in his hip rolls. It’s obvious that Akira hasn’t done this before, and Shuuji likes it better that way.

Akira makes another one of those noises when Shuuji rocks up against him, holding him steady as he takes over and it’s much easier for Akira to meet his thrusts, gasping for air as Shuuji fucks him from below. Shuuji’s so far gone that all he can do is mouth at Akira’s skin, tasting the sweat of their efforts and groaning at how much Akira likes it. He kisses every piece of skin he can reach, sucking and nibbling and Akira shudders the second Shuuji’s teeth make contact.

“Shuuji,” Akira whines, tugging on Shuuji’s wrist and Shuuji figures out what he wants the second his arm is shoved between them. Akira’s length fits neatly in his hand, which strokes him like it’s second nature as they both moan at the added stimulation. “Shuuji, Shuuji, Shuuji.”

Each call of his name makes him hotter, thrusting harder into the body that grows tighter with each pull of Akira’s cock, and Akira makes a beautiful noise as he comes over Shuuji’s fingers. Shuuji’s right behind him, snapping his hips so hard that the bench scrapes against the floor until he is hit by orgasm as well.

The crisp air brings him back to reality, the still shaking man in his lap, and what they’d just done. “Akira –”

“Now we can be together forever,” Akira says, breathlessly, as he curls up in Shuuji’s lap.

Shuuji just wraps his arms around the larger man and focuses on catching his breath. He’s accepted that he’s stuck with Akira, whether he likes it or not.


End file.
